


Don’t fucking touch me.

by sarah_x



Category: Marvel (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 06:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12359097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarah_x/pseuds/sarah_x
Summary: Fantomex has a mental breakdown at the most inopportune moment.





	Don’t fucking touch me.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” 

The words came out like a statement. There was no anger or annoyance or any emotion whatsoever in them. Fantomex was knelt on the ground, knees blackened by the mud, white costume quickly turning grey in the rain. He was slumped over, arms hanging limply at his sides. His mask was gone and he was staring ahead, dead-eyed, looking past not at Remy who was crouching in front of him, shaking Fantomex by the shoulders. 

“Snap outta it,  _mon ami!_ ” Remy shouted, shaking him again, ignoring what Fantomex had just said. “What’s wrong with ya? Where’s your mask?” 

“I will not be deceived again,” He replied, putting one hand over his eyes and using the other to push Remy back. “I won’t go back there!” 

Remy tried dragging the man to his feet but he curled up in a ball like a child, arms covering his head and feet tucked in. “Don’t you dare. Don’t put me back in that cage.” 

The rain was coming down heavy now, making it difficult to hear, but Remy managed to make out shouts and barking that rang through the forest. They were being hunted down. His hand flinched over the pack of poker cards in his pocket. 

He turned back to Fantomex, trying to make his voice calmer and more even, despite the situation. He caught Fantomex’s chin, searched the other man’s wild, frightened eyes. “Jean-Philippe. Listen to me. It’s me, Gambit. Remy. I’m not gunna hurt ya. But they will,” He pointed in the direction of the fast approaching mob, “So we have to run. Now.” 

“…Remy?” A flicker of recognition crossed Fantomex’s face. 

“Oui.” 

“ _Mon ami_!” He yelled with a surprising amount of joy, wrapping his arms around Remy. Remy froze for a moment, but saw his opportunity to pull the other man to his feet. “You’re very handsome.” 

“Uh, thanks.” 

“I am  _so_  sorry you’re not real.”  

Before Remy had time to respond, two men burst through the tree line, guns at the ready. “You two! Muties! Stop there or we  _will_  fire!” 

Remy shoved his hand into his pocket just as the shooting started. He charged up the poker cards and flung them without aiming, grabbing Fantomex by the arm and dragging him along as they ran. 

“I’ve never seen you in The World before…” Fantomex was mumbling, still in a daze, but having the sense to at least try and run for his life. “Maybe I could get used to this. Is Elizabeth here too? Please say no.”

“Don’t suppose you could create a ‘lil illusion for our  _les amis_?” Remy asked, charging up another few cards and flinging them behind him. 

“Why would I do that?” Fantomex asked, genuine confusion passing over his face. “Why waste my talents on something that is already fabricated?”

Remy wanted to argue with him, or maybe slap the man, but Fantomex’s head didn’t seem in the right place, so he held his tongue. Remy could see Fantomex’s ship up ahead. He didn’t know whether Fantomex could pilot it given the state he was in. Still, it was better to be inside and out of the range of gunfire than jogging around the forest likes rabbits during hunting season. 

As they approached, Fantomex called out, “Fake E.V.A, be a dear and let us in.”   
The ship didn’t respond automatically and Remy felt panic well up inside him as they reached its doors. He didn’t have time to strong-arm Fantomex into giving proper commands. Thankfully, the ship’s wide mouth opened for them. 

Just as the door hit the forest floor, there was a loud gunshot from somewhere close and Fantomex lurched forward, falling onto the metal floor. He let out a yelp, grasping his back, eyes wide, “That… that didn’t feel like a simulation.” 

“Ya think,” Remy pressed a hand over the quickly bloodying wound on Fantomex’s back and pulled him up the stairs into the ship, gunfire ringing in his ears. “Shut the damn door!” 

“E.V.A… close the door…” 

The door to the ship closed but the firing continued, distant, like the sound of firecrackers, an afterthought. Remy laid Fantomex down of the floor of the ship and sat beside him, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t realize he’d been holding Fantomex’s hand until the other man’s fingers started to go limp. “Jean-Phillipe?” He said, leaning over the other man and checking his vitals. “Stay with me,  _mon ami_.”

“Call me… Charlie…” Fantomex sighed, voice faraway. He reached up, pushed a strand of hair out of Remy’s face. “You have… beautiful eyes.” 

Remy realized now, in the afterglow of the violence, it was the first time he’d seen Fantomex - Jean-Phillipe,  _Charlie_ , even - without his mask. Fantomex had surprisingly soft features, honey brown hair wet and mused. He smiled with a fondness that reached his eyes. 

“You too,  _cheri_ ,” Remy replied, “Now I don’t suppose you could fly use outta here?” 

“Healing,” Fantomex said and coughed, as if to prove it. “Give me… an hour… then we’ll be away.” 

“We might not have an hour ‘ta spare.” 


End file.
